


Serious Play

by Hard_boiled_candy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hard_boiled_candy/pseuds/Hard_boiled_candy
Summary: Boring, old-married-couple bedtime sex.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Serious Play

Cas has disappeared under the covers and his feet are up close to the pillow.

“What, assuming the position?” Dean jokes as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Could you play with my ass?” Cas asks, muffled.

“You like that better than just about anything, doncha?” Dean says, voice low and sexy.

“It’s very selfish of me, but yes.”

“You think I don’t enjoy fooling around in your butt?” Dean asks, serious but teasing.

“I think you’ve managed to convince me that you do.”

“All those noises you make…” Dean trails off and grabs a glove and some lube.He’s not keen on the glove, but Castiel’s convinced him that it’s to prevent nicks from his fingernails, and as much as he enjoys _bickering_ with Cas he hates actually _arguing_ with him, and rolls over rather more than you’d expect if you thought Dean was the boss of their … whatever the hell it was.

Dean thinks about what got Cas going the last time, and lubes up his index and middle fingers. For a few minutes, while Cas occasionally gasps, he doesn’t even push a finger past the rosebud pucker that is Castiel’s delicious rim. He carefully and slowly strokes his two fingers up and down, up and down, massaging in the lube, pressing just the barest tips of his fingers past the entrance.

Carefully, smirking at the suggestive sucking sound the tube of Astroglide makes, he adds more lube to his fingers, and with a circular motion, gently slides his pinky finger into Cas.

There is a two-note moan of pleasure, and Cas squeezes down so hard that for a second Dean thinks he’s going to break his pinky. He imagines that squeezing down on the base of his cock and groans himself.

He pulls his pinky out and with the same slow, swirly motion, replaces it with his index finger. With the natural curve of his finger, pointing toward Cas’ back, he starts the movement he mentally refers to as “The Impala Windshield Wiper”, a steady back and forth motion parallel to the base of Cas’s spine, through about forty-five degrees of travel, back and forth, slow and gentle and tender. Cas pushes against his finger and moans with almost every stroke.

Dean tilts his hand around and starts stroking Castiel’s prostate. The noise level rises and then levels off. His whole body trembles. Cas is incapable of speech as Dean’s forefinger massages a figure eight motion over his prostate. With his thumb, Dean compresses Castiel’s perineum at the same time as the figure eights he’s making, and Cas shakes his ass like jelly and moans like he’s being hurt.

“Everything okay buddy?” Dean asks, pausing.

“Yeah,” Castiel says faintly after a second. “Please don’t stop, ah, anything.”

“Can do,” Dean says, and starts flicking the top of his finger, oh so gently, against the top of the ring muscle, pausing to probe and then jiggle his finger against the various smooth, twitching surfaces that he encounters. Poor Cas sounds like he’s losing his mind there, which is exactly what he wants him to be doing. 

For half an hour, occasionally repeating old moves, sometimes coming up with new ones, Dean applies everything he knew about pleasuring his partner. At the end Cas convulses for about twenty seconds, making almost a squeaking noise which resolves into a low groan, and then Dean very carefully pulls out his finger and says, “You having a good time?”

Catching his breath, Cas says, “I can’t really imagine having a better one. I think I must have had about ten internal orgasms.”

 _Well now_ , Dean thinks to himself. _I really do own that ass._

“Now what?” Dean says, Cas could surprise him, and it was fun when he did.

“Can I come in your ass? I don’t think I’ll last long.”

“Blow me afterward?” Dean asks hopefully. Cas had a sweet ass, but his mouth and throat and tongue were his favorite part of heaven. And he’s consistent about kissing him afterward, sharing the come between then, ever since he found out what a huge turn-on it was - how even imagining it later made Dean instantly hard.

Cas wants to fuck him from behind, another surprise, and Dean trembles as the head of Castiel’s cock trails lube and pre-cum all around his asshole. He relaxes, and burning hot angel cock slides into his ass. He puts his forehead down onto the bed and moans rhythmically as Castiel slams home. He isn’t being particularly gentle, and within a few minutes, clinging to Dean like a drowning man, he comes, whispering, "Dean," once against the back of his neck as he does, wrapping his arms around his torso and collapsing against him.

"Give me a second," Cas says, panting.

"I was watching some old porn," he adds after a minute.

"Oh, this is gonna be good," Dean purrs. There's a little moment of farewell as Castiel's cock, still hard, retreats. Dean holds still as Cas mops him up, shivering as his insistent heat is withdrawn.

Castiel moves some papers and books off his desk, and lies down on it on his back, tilting his head over the edge of the desk. He opens his mouth suggestively, and Dean follows, looking down on him.

"Fuck my mouth," Castiel said.

"Don't mind if I do," Dean says, and re-enacts a moment from the golden age of porn with an upside down blow job. It's all about depth and control; Cas is trusting him not to choke him. Castiel hums. Dean closes his eyes and smiles and then the smile vanishes into an expression of concentrated lust and need.

At the last second he pulls out and comes in six jets, all across Castiel's chest and belly, into his pubic hair. Dean leans over for an upside down kiss, and then finds some tissue.

In the shower, after, there's another long, sweet kiss, and the rituals of getting clean.

Lying together, afterward, Cas says, "I was reading that long-term couples just get better and better at pleasing each other sexually, and that they're just as happy with their sex lives in their eighties as they were in their thirties, sometimes even happier."

Dean's arm is warm around him; his breath against his face, freshened with toothpaste, makes Castiel feel awash in love.

"Just think what we got to look forward to," Dean murmurs. "We might just _die_." He turns off the bedside lamp.

The lovers sleep, and Dean, for once, isn't tormented by dreams of Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, check out my other Destiel fics, or leave a comment or kudo!


End file.
